


I am queen of all my sins forgotten

by tigriswolf



Series: comment_fic drabbles [193]
Category: Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms, Original Work
Genre: Assassination Plot(s), Character Death, F/M, Fractured Fairy Tale, Gen, Magic, Origin Story, Revenge, Royalty, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 04:46:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1927119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The king named her after her mother: Marguerite.  He called her Margery.  </p><p>The seer whispered, <i>Beware the name of the dead</i>; the king did  not listen.  Of course he didn’t. </p><p>Do kings ever listen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I am queen of all my sins forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Title: I am queen of all my sins forgotten  
> Original, PG, character death  
> 800 words; title from Anne Sexton  
> Prompt: Fairy tale, the King and his Daughter, _It will scare you to your very soul_. Angel Heart

_Oh, Papa,_ she thought, _you have no idea what you wished for._

.

Once upon a time, there was a princess. She was as pale as snow, as red as blood, as dark as a moonless night. She was a good girl. Always had a smile for the servants, a kind word for the knights, a wave to the commoners as her carriage drove past. 

Once upon a time, there was a sorceress. She, too, was pale, was red, was dark. She, too, had a smile for the servants, words for the knights, a flick of the wrist for the commoners. 

You don't think I'm talking about different people, do you? Oh, you poor dear. 

.

The queen died in childbirth, after a hard pregnancy. Truthfully, though the healer would never say it, she should not have carried a child. _What will be will be_ , the seer murmured, fingers trailing through the water. _What will be…_

.

The king named her after her mother: Marguerite. He called her Margery. 

The seer whispered, _Beware the name of the dead_ ; the king did not listen. Of course he didn’t. 

Do kings ever listen? 

.

Margery was a delightful child. She learned everything a princess should know, ever smiling. She visited the cooks whenever she had a moment, spent a stolen afternoon here and there with the hedgewitch, bowed to the priest’s god when brought to the chapel. She could recite all the saints and throw together a charm to ward off pregnancy before her twelfth summer. 

No matter how much time she spent in the sun, her skin never darkened. Though she never painted her lips, they were always ruby. And her hair glinted ebony when any light shone on it. She was a beautiful girl and the king knew she’d be more beautiful still with every passing year. 

The king loved his daughter; he married her mother for love. He wanted her to feel the joy he felt the first time he ever saw the queen. 

A proclamation was sent throughout the continent and all the eligible sons flocked to their halls. 

The king, of course, did not ask his daughter if she wanted to marry. It was her duty and so she would. 

.

His name was Cole. He was the younger prince of the great southern isle. He was a good man; he would be a decent Prince Consort, when she ascended the throne. He would never be king, not of her realm. 

He was a good man, with one great fault: he accepted things at face value. He would be a good figurehead, one of his friends thought, the overlooked son of a duke. Cole would be a good figurehead, indeed, after his wife the queen died in childbirth and it would be a long eighteen years before the child could inherit the throne. 

.

Margery did not love Cole. But she had a duty to the realm. 

When she survived the childbirth, the duke’s son tried something else. 

.

The poison was drunk by the wrong person and the only child of Queen Marguerite fell down dead. 

.

Once upon a time, there was a princess. She was a lovely girl and grew into a lovelier woman. She was fair and she was just and she kept a calm head no matter what befell her. Her father the king died just before her twentieth year, a month after her wedding; it was a terrible accident, when the king’s horse stumbled and the king landed on the stump. (It was planned by a greedy man.) But the king’s daughter, though she cried silently through the funeral procession and the coronation, never made a sound save when she swore to uphold the oaths of her bloodline and serve her realm. 

She gave birth to a daughter; the daughter died before her fourth birthday. She miscarried what the seer said would be a son. 

Through it all, though she cried, she never made a sound. 

But then – the priest could not help her, so she found a witch. 

.

 _You have the potential, Majesty,_ the witch said. _But once you learn, you can never unknow._

Queen Marguerite did not hesitate.

.

The duke’s greedy son had an accident. So did the prince consort. So did all of the courtiers from the great southern isle. 

The world is a dangerous place, my dear.

.

Queen Marguerite’s hair is as dark as midnight, her lips red as blood, her skin pale as bone. Where there was once laughter in her heart, there is now only sorrow. 

Look into the mirror, child. What do you see? You see a princess, do you not? Of course you do. 

Once upon a time, so did she. 

.

 _Oh, Papa,_ she thought, standing at his grave, apple in hand. _Why did you give me the name of the dead?_


End file.
